


And Into Their Arms

by supercantaloupe



Series: A Brand New State [3]
Category: Oklahoma! - Rodgers/Hammerstein
Genre: Childbirth, Domestic, F/M, Family, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 11:28:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20388973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercantaloupe/pseuds/supercantaloupe
Summary: Big news comes to the Parker household and everybody's eager to greet it, though it doesn't come without a good long wait and its fair share of struggle.





	And Into Their Arms

“Will you hurry that ol’ mare up already? Don’ wanna be late an’ miss the whole thing,” Laurey complained. There was an edge of worry to her voice.

“She’s goin’, she’s goin,” Curly assured her, but held the reigns a little tighter and gave the horse a firm tap with the crop to pick up the pace. The wagon bumped and jostled as the horse kicked up a step, making Laurey grab onto the sides tighter, hold on a little closer to the basket to keep its contents from spilling. Curly sat up front, driving, in a nice shirt accented with small powder-blue flowers and a handsome hat. Laurey in the back had gotten dressed up, too, in her skirts and bonnet as was proper for the occasion.

The house came into view up the road a ways off. As they came up nearer they could see just how late they were by the number of other wagons, horses, and menfolk parked outside. Laurey made a comment to her husband about dilly-dallying and he teased her right back, although for both of them it was a little too tense to enjoy it much.

Curly drove their wagon up to a stop in the front of the yard and hopped down, moving around back to help lift his wife down from the wagon cart. She tucked the basket under her arm and pressed a quick kiss to his lips before hurrying inside, rushing her greetings to the men loitering about. Curly then set to unhitch the wagon from their horse and take her to water before joining the rest of the men. They greeted him with overlapping “hellos” and “howdys.”

“Hello yerselves,” Curly said, tipping his hat and grinning. His job was mostly over by now, and his worry had already started to dissipate. The rest of the men were as dressed up as he was -- they weren’t having a hoedown or anything, but most of them came in their Sunday best. Someone handed Curly a bottle of root beer and he popped it open and took a drink. It was only spring and the breeze was busy that day but it was already hot enough for a cool drink to be more than welcome. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Curly looked around. “Where’s Will at, then?” 

“‘s over by the porch,” Andrew Carnes said, motioning with his head back to the house. He was dressed perhaps more smartly than any other man present, and looked mighty proud of it. Will, on the other hand, seemed anxious, a rare sight. Even at a big rodeo he was usually jumping and hollering with excitement, not nerves; now he walked around and around, hands held behind or scratching his beard. Curly nodded to the other men and walked over.

"'lo, Will," Curly greeted, ambling up to his friend and giving him a firm slap on the back. Will turned and faced him, face lighting up. 

"Curly!" He greeted back, pulling his pal into a strong one-armed hug. "There you are! Took yer time comin' over, didn't'chu?" 

"Had t' get the chores done," he explained, rubbing the back of his neck. "An' get all purdied up." He stroked his chin, clean-shaven. Laurey had complained he was taking too long to shave before they left the farmhouse but he wanted to look sharp for the occasion.

"Aw, shoot. Ain't that nice," Will smiled. He didn't tease; obviously something was still bothering him.

"Well, 's a first time fer everythin'," Curly offered, teasing himself in Will's place. He tried to make his friend chuckle, and succeeded. "How're things goin' inside?" He asked. The question of the day.

Will looked strained, optimistic but worried. "Sure is takin' a while, 's fer sure. Let the women handle it 'lone, I ain't knowed what t' do with myself if'n I were in there." He held his head. 

Curly quirked a brow. "You ain't been inside?"

"Not fer hours, naw. Them girls'll squeal somethin' awful if'n you try, too." 

Curly had to laugh. "Well, whut'chu been doin' out here, then?"

Will shrugged and sat on the edge of the porch, frowning. Really, all he'd been doing was pacing, holding his head, putting on a smile for the guests, and worrying all day. Curly pursed his lips and looked around the yard, seeing all the men gathered and gossiping, sipping their sodas, idling. He scratched his head.

“You worried?” Curly asked. Will pursed his lips and exhaled, nodding. Hard to say it out loud. Curly understood. He hadn’t exactly been in Will’s situation, not yet, but a few of the men there had. Carnes, certainly. He was probably nervous too, but better at hiding it. “‘ey. ‘m sure everything’ll turn out fine.”

“Hope so. Love ‘er more’n I can say.” Will looked pensive. It wasn’t a good look on him. Curly patted his shoulder and sighed, looking around.

"...well that jist ain't right," he clicked his tongue and shook his head. Will looked up at him, interested and a little confused. Curly offered a smirk. "Ain't never known territory boys t' sit 'round  _ sippin' tea  _ when they's work t' be done." He made a point to raise his voice so the other men would hear. They looked back at him, listening, some bemused and some confused. Curly turned to them and opened up his arms. "Well, c'mon now, farm ain't gon' run  _ itself! _ 'specially when all the women folk're all  _ d'stracted _ inside!"

Some of the men grumbled or nodded in agreement. Mclain had a point. They moved to finish their drinks and take the empty bottles back to the porch, beginning to talk among themselves about the chores that needed work and who would get them done. 

Will smiled and stood, clapping his buddy on the shoulder. "'ey."

"Hey."

"Thanks fer that."

Curly grinned and downed the rest of his drink, setting the empty bottle down on the porch when he finished. "'course. Keep ya busy." Will nodded and went over to join the rest of the men, to start on the chores neglected from the chaos of the morning. 

Curly took a step to follow when the house door opened. "Hey, Curly," Laurey said, poking halfway out. "How's W--?"

"He's okay," Curly answered, interrupting. He knew the question before she'd even asked. "Set 'em t' work. How's--"

Laurey nodded. "Goin' up in a minute. Keep 'em busy. I'll getchu if there's news."

Curly tipped his hat to his wife. She disappeared back inside. After a moment, he clicked his tongue and moved to help with the chores.

* * *

When they'd arrived, Laurey stole a quick kiss from her husband and hurried inside the house. She set the basket she’d brought along down on a table already crowded with others and some small packages wrapped in brown paper and tied with spare ribbon or twine. A pair of women were hauling some laundry around and looked up when she arrived.

“‘s’at Laurey Williams?” One of them asked. Gertie Cummings...or, really, Gertie Hakim, Laurey supposed it was now. The other girl nodded hello and disappeared out the back door carrying the hamper of laundry.

“Yeow, ‘s Mclain now,” Laurey corrected, not unkind. 

“Aw, yeah, I fergot! How’s Curly doin’?” 

“Doin’ well. Takes too long t’ pick a damn shirt to wear, though, that’s fer sure.” Laurey rolled her eyes and unlaced her bonnet. Gertie laughed, but blessedly kept it brief.

“‘s’at why yer so late?”

“Partly. How’s she doin’?” 

“Still goin’ strong. Dunno how but ain’t nobody else could ‘cept her, I reckon.” Gertie answered. Laurey nodded in agreement. Ado Annie was a tough cookie. “You should head on up, she’ll be happy t’ see you, I bet.”

“I will, in a moment,” Laurey waved her off and Gertie slipped upstairs. Laurey could hear more women upstairs, more talking and commotion. Before joining them, she poked her head out the door and called to her husband. “Hey, Curly. How’s W--?”

"He's okay," Curly answered, interrupting. He knew the question before she'd even asked. "Set 'em t' work. How's--"

Laurey nodded. "Goin' up in a minute. Keep 'em busy. I'll getchu if there's news."

Curly tipped his hat to his wife. She disappeared back inside. She removed her bonnet and left it on the table, then retied her apron on tight before heading upstairs.

All the commotion was in the bedroom. Gertie was there, as was Aunt Eller, and a couple of other girls, all gathered round the bed and doing their various jobs. Eller noticed Laurey at the door and beckoned her in. “Lands, child, you sure took yer sweet time!”

“Had t’ get the chores done,” Laurey explained, rolling up her sleeves. “Since you headed out soon’s the news broke me an’ Curly had more t’ do. An’  _ then _ he took his precious time purdyin’ up, thought we was gonna miss the whole thing.” She made a face. Eller laughed.

“Married a fussy feller, ain’t’chu? Well, c’mon in, still got a ways t’ go, y’ain’t missed it all yet.”

“‘s’at Laurey?” came a voice from the bed. Gertie stepped back, having been blocking Laurey’s view, and Laurey came forward to take her place. 

“Yeow, Annie, ‘s me. How you doin’?” She replied warmly. Ado Annie, lying in bed, threw up her arms up to wrap around her friend; Laurey leaned down and they hugged. After that, Laurey backed up just enough to kneel beside the bed and talk to Annie face-to-face, though she kept a hand up on the edge of the quilt for Annie to hold, which she did, and not without a considerably strong grip.

“Well-- better now’n yer here,” Ado Annie replied, laughing a little. She looked a proper mess -- still in her nightgown, hair a wild unbrushed mass, face damp and red from sweat and exertion. Her hands too were clammy, but Laurey didn’t mind. Really, what else could you expect of a woman in labor? Despite it all Ado Annie still had a bright smile on her face. 

“How long’s she been at it?” Laurey asked, looking up to Eller at the foot of the bed. 

“All mornin’.”

“All  _ night _ ,” Annie corrected, sounding strained. She squeezed Laurey’s hand and tensed up. Laurey wondered how dark of a bruise she’d have on her hand tomorrow -- there wasn’t a doubt in her mind  _ if  _ there’d be one. “Damn kid woke me durin’ my  _ beauty sleep! _ ” Laurey had to laugh. Even several hours into childbirth, exhausted and in pain, Ado Annie was cracking jokes. To ease her own mind, Laurey decided that was a good sign.

“Simmer down, now, don’ strain yerself yet. Could be a while still ‘fore yer done here,” Eller reminded. Annie groaned and threw her head back against the small mound of pillows piled behind her. One of the girls from the other side of the bed wrung out a wet towel and wiped the sweat from Annie’s neck and forehead, and reminded her to breathe.

As if searching for a distraction, Annie turned her head to look at Laurey again. “How’s Will doin’?” she asked.

“Curly says ‘e’s out workin’.” Laurey figured Will was probably wracked with the worst nerves he’d ever faced in his life right about now. Curly had a good idea to distract him with chores. “You want me t’ grab him for ya?”

“If Will came in here right about now I would rip his windpipe out with my own hand,” Annie insisted, tensing again, making a pained noise. All the girls laughed. Sure, he  _ was _ the father, but they all knew him, he’d be worse than useless right about now. Midwifing was women’s work out in the country, everybody knew that. Plus, it wouldn’t be proper for a man to be alone with so many women in the same room, in various states of tidiness, even if one of them was his wife. 

He didn’t need to be there, that was the bottom line. No one needed to have him there, to remind him of everything involved in the process. Joys and risks alike. No one needed to remind him how dangerous it was to give birth. Hell, none of the women needed to be reminded either. The atmosphere of the whole house was one thick with excitement and dread alike, but above all, anticipation.

* * *

Hours crept by at a snail’s pace, despite all there was to do, to work on, to worry over. The women took turns tending to Ado Annie and helping with the delivery, or working on house chores downstairs; the men stayed outside, either working on farm chores or amusing themselves in some other way. A few of them got out ropes and started to throw them, competing among themselves for a bottle of beer. Curly felt smart to have stuck his guitar into the back of the wagon before they'd left the house, and he played to pass the time. Just after noontime a couple of the girls came out with hampers and set out a lunch by the porch. Laurey carried out a pitcher of lemonade and cups. Curly made a point to be the first one over by the lunch table, even while they were still setting up.

"Hey, pretty lady," he chirped, letting his guitar hang from its strap and rest against his back.

The other girl giggled and Laurey rolled her eyes. "Hey. What'chu been up to out here?" Laurey cast a look at the other girl and lowered her voice, adding "trouble, I bet."

Curly snorted. “Oh, you got so little faith in me, Miss Mclain. I oughta find yer husband and tell ‘im you was talkin’ mean.”

“Oh hush. Answer my question.”

Curly adjusted his hat. “Well, got most a’ th’ chores done quick, had a lotta hands t’ help out an’ all. Then we jist started playin’ ‘round t’ pass the time.”

“Yer jist a buncha kids yerselves, ain’t’chu?” Laurey raised an eyebrow and Curly grinned his stupid, slightly bucktoothed grin at her. “How’s Will doin’?”

“Think ‘e’s doin’ okay. Keepin’ ‘im distracted so I don’ think he’s thinkin’ ‘bout it too much anymore, ‘ich is good. He’ll kill hisself with worry if’n he ain’t.” 

“An’ Andrew?”

Curly frowned slightly. He hadn’t paid much attention to the older man, he hadn’t crossed his mind. “Beg yer pardon?”

“Y’know, Carnes. How’s ‘e doin’?” 

Curly glanced back over to where the men were gathered to idle. “I dunno. Think he’s alright. Sure is a nice day fer it, anyhow. Cain’t hardly ‘magine myself though, how it must feel.” To see yourself become a grandfather. Or, god forbid, lose a daughter. 

“Y’oughta make sure he’s doin’ fine,” Laurey said as she and the other girl finished up setting out the lunch table. She tapped on it with her knuckles before they turned to go back in.

“‘ey, wait a sec,” Curly said. Laurey stopped and looked at him. “You ain’t tell me how’s it goin’ inside yet. Will she be done soon?”

Laurey spread her lips and exhaled, running her hands through her hair. “‘s a long process. Hard t’ say.”

“Cain’t’chu speed things up?”

Laurey made a face. “That ain’t how this works.”

Curly flattened. “How’s I s’pposed t’ know?”

“You don’t.” Laurey smirked and raised an eyebrow at him. “Y’jist listen to yer wife an’ trust her.”

Curly chuckled, smiling once again. “Y’ drive a hard bargain, miss, but fair’s fair.”

“Let the others know they’s food out,” she instructed, then disappeared inside. Curly nodded, then turned to call the men over to eat.

* * *

The day dragged on long into the afternoon. The sun began to lazily consider its retirement. Up in the bedroom, though, things only grew more tense. It seemed the nearer she got to being done, the harder and more painful everything grew for Ado Annie. No one knew a girl out in this edge of the territory stronger than her, who could handle more than her; to see her so helpless and in such agony was a frightening sight for them all, especially those who had planned on motherhood for themselves. Aunt Eller took charge; no one had to ask her if she’d done this before, as she clearly knew what she was doing. Today she ran that house like a battleship, with herself as the captain. 

There was a lot of howling in pain. Buckets and towels of water. Pushing. Breathing. Sweat. Tears. Hands squeezed so hard they ached. 

Eventually, finally, the wait was over. Eller used a clean pair of shears to cut the cord. Annie, breathing heavily, had her head thrown back against the pillows, hair in her face, eyes closed but pointed at the ceiling. It was like she hadn’t processed yet, or maybe hadn't even noticed, that she was through.

“It’s a girl.”

Gold, late-afternoon sunlight came in through the window. A warmth swept through the room. Annie picked her head back up, just a little, with the most hopeful and sparkling eyes. She glanced to Laurey by her side and held her hand, a slow, exhausted, and disbelieving smile creeping over her face. Laurey chuckled slightly, this time squeezing Annie’s hand, and glanced back to Eller, holding the baby. A girl brought over a wet towel to clean her off, a blanket to swaddle. 

The baby began to cry. It broke everyone’s hearts, and they soared. Ado Annie began to cry, too, from the pain, the exhaustion, the emotion, the elation, tears of joy and tenderness which choked her. She held out her arms. Gently, Eller placed the small, crying girl into her mother’s arms, and she held her close to her chest. Through her tears, Ado Annie marveled at the small girl’s round head, dusted with sparse, soft blonde hairs, her tiny wrinkled fingers, her smooth skin still red from crying. Annie laughed, and sobbed, and held her daughter close.

"Hi, baby," she said, quiet and soft. She looked happier than she'd ever looked before. "Welcome home."

Stomping from downstairs cut through the quiet. Laurey turned to look just in time to see Will Parker appear in the door, out of breath, like he'd sprinted across the whole farm to get here. " _ Where is 'e? _ " he asked, a little frantic. Gertie appeared behind him, grinning almost lazily. She must've snuck out to fetch the new father. "Where's my son?"

Eller shushed him for his volume. Laurey stepped back to make room by the bedside, and he quickly moved to take her place and kneel beside his wife.

"Daughter," Ado Annie corrected, with utmost sweetness, utmost happiness, and a deep serenity. The baby had just begun to settle down, as Annie had pulled back her nightgown a bit to let the girl breastfeed for the first time. Annie shifted a little to show her husband their daughter.

Will began to smile and laugh, weakly. "My girl," he said, barely above a whisper, still catching his breath. "My two girls." He kissed his wife, tender and sweet, and then the baby, on her soft head.

"You two think of a name yet?" Eller asked from the foot of the bed, where she was wiping her hands on a towel and smiling, proud.

"Maevis," Annie said, then laughed. "Maevis Parker." Will met her eyes for a second and then nodded.

Eller nodded. "Well, there y'are. Maevis Parker." 

* * *

Laurey slipped back outside, tired but content. She tied her bonnet back on for decency's sake but didn't fuss over making it look too neat. Her apron was a right mess, anyway, but who cared?

News had reached the yard by then and the men were in high spirits. Some of the other girls, those with husbands and some without, had slipped out as well to join them, drinking sodas and beer and revelling in the communal joy of a new birth. 

Laurey found her husband and walked up beside him, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. At her touch he looked down, and, noticing it was her, wrapped his arm around her middle and pulled her close to his side. The breeze blew and the sky turned orange with sunset. 

"Hey, you," Curly greeted.

"Hey, you," Laurey returned, looking up at him.

"Go okay?"

"Mhm." Laurey breathed. Curly offered him his drink and she accepted, taking a sip. 

"Sure took a while, didn' it?"

"Happens that-a-way," she explained. "'specially when it's the first."

"They pick a name yet?"

"Mhm. Maevis."

"Maevis?" Curly thought about that. "I like that. She's gonna be a fine girl, jist know it."

Laurey sighed, a tired but contented sigh. Curly looked down at her and gave her a little squeeze; she turned and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, his neck, and pulled him down for a kiss. He obliged.

They stuck around for a while longer to mingle and revel -- of course, Laurey hadn’t had any chance to say hello to any of the menfolk yet, being so busy inside all day -- but soon after sundown they started to trickle out and head home, the Mclains included. There were still some work to be done at home, and anyway, it wouldn’t be polite to stay too long and be a burden on the new parents. Aunt Eller stayed behind to help care for Ado Annie and the baby; she knew the most about these things, and everybody knew the danger was far from over. But the hardest part was through; now they’ve got to focus on the recovery, the adjustment. Laurey knew herself and the other ladies would make their rounds to stop by and help out around the house in the next few weeks while Annie rested, but for now, it was time to head home.

She opted to sit in front next to Curly this time instead of in the back of the wagon like before. He hitched up the horse and they set out, waving their goodbyes to the remaining guests. The little remaining daylight slowly filtered out of the sky while in the opposite direction a moon began to rise. Laurey breathed in the cool spring air and leaned a little on her husband as he drove, sleepy. 

She thought about her friends; how happy they were gonna be with their newborn, how exciting and busy things were going to be now that they had a daughter to bring up. Oh, they were going to make fine parents, those Parkers. She was sure of it.

She thought about how difficult the birth had been -- and Annie’s had gone without complications, too. The length, the pain, the stress. The dozens of unseen risks and dangers leading up to, during, and following. How much could go wrong, how uncertain it all was. And even if it went well, how hard and confusing and frightening being a new mother would be.

And Laurey thought of her own, on the way. She had her doubts. Would she be a good mother? Would she be able to carry her own for nine whole months, deal with the stress and the nausea and exhaustion, the anxiety, the physical strain of carrying a child? Would she be able to survive a birth? Would her child?

She thought again of her own on the way. Her sleepy head drooped near Curly’s shoulder. At least, she knew, whatever happened, she would love their child as fiercely and fully as possible, and do everything in her power to give them the best life she could. 

No one could predict anything, not then and there, but for now, Laurey was happy. 

Who would’ve guessed that in less than a year’s time there’d be another grand little welcome to their quiet corner of the territory? 

**Author's Note:**

> Encouraged & inspired by my pals Ren, Regan, and Meg. 
> 
> Also this turned out way longer than I anticipated so enjoy I guess.
> 
> Yeehaw, fellas.


End file.
